The Feel Of You
by Sky Samuelle
Summary: Rated for sexual situations. Michael muses years after A Time For Every Purpose. Look for parallels with The Music That Was Never Played.


To Francesco Zavaglia, a man of courage With Love, always  
  
The Feel of You  
  
  
  
I need her. Her absence can strike my soul and leave me breathless.  
  
But Adam is with me and I will smile at him as if all is well and I will continue this lie. And because I need her so much I sometimes hate her, I say almost because I could never hate her. Without her there is no me. I became empty and hopeless when I turned my back on her. My arms void of her embrace, my soul lost without her love.  
  
Something unique and precious left me that day.  
  
It is different from when Simone died. I loved my wife with all my heart, but I didn't need her and I knew I could live without her as I knew she could live without me.  
  
When Simone died I was in shock, angry and disappointed, mostly with myself. I grieved for Simone and I mourned her loss. Some say I stopped living.when the truth is I simply began to live differently. I lived to do my job, I lived the illusion of having a mission wife, a women I didn't love and son I never wanted but could not help but love. This was all that was left for me.  
  
And then SHE came and she seeped into my blood, she shattered my illusion and I was helpless to stop her.  
  
And now she is gone. I see her everywhere I go and in everything I see. I am no longer susceptible to the beauty of this world. I now know what it means to stop living because I had never truly lived before her and now there is nothing after her. The simplest things make me think of her. At night my bed is always too big, always too cold. Her poutey lips have burned themselves onto my flesh.  
  
I love her, and now I know I want nothing more then to be able to say it to her every day, and to hear her say it back.  
  
But now is not our time. I have to be patient, our time will come, and I am a patient man.  
  
My Nikita, my heart, my conscience, my passion, my obsession, my weakness, my strength, my spirit, my soul, and the core of everything I am and everything I will ever be.  
  
Her alabaster skin, her firm breasts, the curve of her hips, the soft curls between her thighs, her hundreds of smiles and moods, her husky laugh. I know it all by heart, and this is my damnation.  
  
She created another man inside me, a man who is dead without her, a man who can only live in her presence.  
  
Adam is eight years old today. He wanted to eat at a fast food place so I took him. Our waitress sent me all the signals, furtive glances with what I suppose were seductive smiles, so obvious was her attraction to me.  
  
I encouraged her using all the old valentine lines I had once used countless times before. What was her name? I can't remember.  
  
When Adam was done eating I took him to the restroom and waited for him outside in the hall.  
  
The waitress followed and passed by so close that she grazed me. She was all smiles as she entered the women's restroom.  
  
I followed her and I actually did something as shallow as fuck a women I didn't know in a public restroom with my eight-year- old son across the hall.  
  
Something a man of my intelligence, experience, and condition should never do. But I wanted her.no.that's not true. I didn't want her, but she had cerulean blue eyes and shoulder length blond hair, so I took her.  
  
When her breast slipped out of her chemise under my kneading fingers I thought it was too fleshy. And when I lowered her panties I realized she was too short. As I plunged myself into her I swallowed her cries with my mouth and I looked into her dilated pupils, which had darkened in passion.  
  
And I immediately had to shut my own eyes against the pain because they had darkened to the wrong shade of blue. Her skin had no taste, her hair no smell. And in my release I could not have said her name even if I could have remembered it because the only name in my mind was Nikita.  
  
The sun has now faded and I still need, want and miss her, my Nikita. If she were here I would absorb her into me so deeply that I would never be without her again. My thoughts are never gentle at night, and they are always painful.  
  
I watch Adam sleep on the couch. My son is so important to me and I'm doing my best to right the wrongs I've done to him. He is what makes me think that my existence has some purpose. I want to be a good father. One day he will grow and have no need of me anymore. And as ashamed as I am to admit or even have the thought, I live for that day.  
  
That day, I hope she is alive. That day I hope she still wants me. That day my life will be reborn.  
  
But then doubts creep in.  
  
Did they change her?  
  
The way to power is long and unmerciful and I fear for her.  
  
Nikita is fighting for her soul and her life. While I have a freedom I neither want nor can appreciate without her. What will I do if I look into her perfect face and see staring back at me only an empty void. I fought so hard for that not to happen, but I'm not there, and now I'm helpless to prevent it.  
  
It's too late for me. But will it be too late for us?  
  
I promised myself I would protect her and I will do it. If the time ever comes that she needs me to protect her back I will be there for her. She can deny it, but she NEEDS me like I NEED her. It's just the way it is between us.  
  
May God forgive me if I'm choosing the love of a woman over my son and a life without sin. May God let me come to her in time. 


End file.
